Yoshiwara: wine and women, the place of pleasure and market
of love…
Teinosuke Kinugasa’s film came some two years after his
ground smashing A Page of Madness (1926), described by some bloke on
IMDB as “hardly a crowd pleaser” although I’d have to say this depends on the
crowd. In the Shadow of Yoshiwara aka Jūjiro (Crossroads) became the
most widely distributed Japanese film overseas up to that point with the
director/writer bringing a copy himself on the Trans-Siberian Express.
Clearly influenced by European cinema in terms of his use
of shadows, double and multiple exposure, Kinugasa also cut quickly and used
montage to heighten moments of dramatic tension. This copy features German and
English translation and so it’s unlikely it was from a print screened with Benshi
and is possibly from the original German release in Berlin, as Im Schatten des
Yoshiwara (The Shadows of Yoshiwara). The style of performance is
altogether home-grown with exaggerated, febrile movements accompanying extended
expression – heads are thrown back in evil laughter and bodies shake with anger
and sadness. It’s a mix of the heavily stylized Kabuki theatrical tradition
with more western-styled film acting and it makes this film the opposite of say
Yasujirō Ozu whose Dreams of Youth was released in the same year.
Yoshiwara is set in the red-light district of Tokyo
and it’s a studio-bound just like a UFA film and benefits from the atmospheric
compression this brings – is this a subconscious awareness or are our eyes just
so hard to fool even in a mostly darkened set. A young man (Junosuke Bando) has
made the classic mistake of falling for a courtesan, in this case O-ume, the beauty
of Yoshiwara (Yukiko Ogawa). He returns home to the rooms he shares with his
sister (Akiko Chihaya) battered and upset after fighting for his love with men
who clearly are not of the romantic persuasion.
Junosuke Bando |
Don’t go out today, stay with me brother…
The sister is calm in both her emoting and response to
his hysteria, making sure their door is locked – it isn’t as their landlord
pops his head in to ask if they’re alright – and trying to prevent her brother
from further exposing himself to danger. The young man just can’t help himself
and rushes off taking a newly made kimono she has made as a token to impress O-ume…
It is genuinely pathetic and watching his desperation to win the heart of this
woman who no doubt cannot afford to reciprocate, is painful.
Firstly, he is struck to the ground by one of the shogun
patrons and he lies on the ground terrified of returning the challenge and
then, a more evenly matched opponent, the one he bested the night before (Keinosuke
Sawada as Myoichiro Ozawa) takes his chance for revenge by pouring hit ash on
his face. The boy is blinded and if he expected any sympathy he’s in the wrong
place as he cries out for O-ume, lashing around before confronting his hateful
rival and, striking without thought, or direction, believing he has killed him.
He runs off in the direction of home as the other man
bounces up to reveal that he was only pretending… the brothel erupts in
laughter and heads are thrown back with evil relish. The contrast with his sister’s
compassion could not be greater and when a doctor offers hope that he may be
able to regain his sight if she is able to pay for treatment she is faced with only
one option… She goes to see the local “procuress” (Yoshie Nakagawa) who will be
able to set her up with potential clients willing to pay for her favours and,
worse still, there toothless policeman – a revoltingly-leary Minoru Takase (as
Ippei Sōma) – is willing to go to the head of the queue.
Akiko Chihaya |
What hope is there for these two in a world in which
there is a price for everything and honour is so casually thrown away in
exchange for power and possession.
Reading William O. Gardner’s observations in the
catalogue, Kinugasa was drawing parallels in this story set in 1850 during the
late period of Edo Japan with the modern consumerist society that Japan had
become by this point when it was still a laissez-faire liberal democracy,
albeit one beginning to restrict opposition with an establishment concerned
about the relatively swift changes in society. The filmmaker saw “…an “entertainment”
world made possible by an advanced money economy…” and the desperation of the
ordinary working people to take part not only in the past but in the economically
stricken period of the 1920s.
In this context, when there’s a price to be paid for
sight and love no wonder some of the poorest people are crushed in front of our
very eyes.
Accompaniment on the stream was from Sabrina Zimmerman on
piano and Mark Pogolski on violin who matched the intensity on screen and reached
through to the turmoil of the young siblings faced with a choice between
madness and self-obliteration. Not the easiest of watches but a very impactful
experience.
1 William O. Gardner: New Perceptions:
Kinugasa Teinosuke’s Films and Japanese Modernism, in: Cinema Journal, Vol. 43,
No. 3, 2004
The crossroads... |
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